


The benefits of a guilty conscience

by catteeth



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Accomplice Ending (Persona 4), Choking, Dirty Talk, Frottage, M/M, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:35:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25254718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catteeth/pseuds/catteeth
Summary: Unannounced, Adachi shows up at Souji’s doorstep in the city.
Relationships: Adachi Tohru/Narukami Yu, Adachi Tohru/Seta Souji
Comments: 10
Kudos: 83





	The benefits of a guilty conscience

**Author's Note:**

> Mild spoilers for the P4G Accomplice ending.

Unannounced, Adachi shows up at Souji’s doorstep in the city.

“Your parents home?” he asks when the door opens. He barges in anyway, removing his shoes and grabbing Souji’s hands, pinning them behind his back, flat against the wall. Shamelessly, rough and sloppy, he moves forward to grind against him and rubs his cock to hardness against his leg.

Souji doesn’t answer him. He doesn’t need to. He knows Adachi knows what he’s been up to, what his parents are up to. Sometimes, he even calls to chat about Inaba just to show off. He tells Souji about Dojima and Nanako, who are doing well, happy and healthy, and then about his old friends, who run around like chickens with their heads cut off. _How do they function_ , Adachi had asked him, laughing a bit at the thought, _without their leader telling them what to do? What a sad group of losers._

Anyway, Adachi was right: the police can keep tabs on people pretty easily. It’s funny to think what his parents would say if they saw him like this, frotting with a strange man ten years his senior. He probably looks pretty stupid, but it’s been so long since anyone has touched him that he gives into it a little too easily. His body falls slack against Adachi’s like jelly. It’s enjoyable to be passively used, he thinks, as he lets himself be rutted into.

It’s true. For the last six months, he’s been fantasizing about this. When Adachi calls, he’s already hard on the second ring, and when he picks up, he’s palming himself as he listens silently. Sometimes, it’s obvious Adachi is doing the same thing; slick, wet sounds echo from the receiver even as Adachi details the monotonous life of a good-for-nothing cop in the inaka. There’s no hitch in his breath, no panting, no obvious sign when he comes. He’s a pretty good bullshitter. 

Well, so is Souji. It’s his own fault, he knows, that it ended up like this. What did it even mean to face the truth? The truth is he’s a coward and afraid of being alone, and even more so, he’s dying to be needed in a way that his friends just can’t give him, leader or not. He figures he and Adachi are the same in that way. 

“Hey.” Adachi releases Souji’s hands and swats at him. “You gonna come in your pants already?”

He flushes. He’s never really seen Adachi this close up before. In a daze, he pulls back and looks at him. Adachi’s face is tired, like he’s perpetually worried and overworked, and the skin beneath his eyes is purple and thin. It’s not exactly the handsome version he’s been imagining, but overall, it’s not bad. Life is like that, isn’t it, with reality not living up to its expectations. 

“No,” Souji says, “I’m not.” 

“I don’t care if you do.” Adachi rubs his fingers over Souji’s thighs, stopping at his crotch. It jumps out at him, needy and hot, but he ignores it and grabs at his ass instead. “You’ve been wanting this for a long time, right?”

Of course he has. 

“Of course you have,” Adachi repeats, like he’s a mind reader. “You’ve been touching yourself on the phone with me—don’t think I haven't noticed.” He laughs and thrusts against him, using his grip on Souji’s ass to pull him closer. “Ah, who knew you were such a needy slut?”

Adachi is really talkative in person. At least Souji got that fantasy right. He’s a rambler with a dirty mouth, and, despite the teasing, probably just as hot and bothered as Souji, just less reserved about it. Souji shifts his weight, an excuse for a little more friction on his cock, wishing he would hurry up already.

Like Adachi wouldn’t notice.

“You want it pretty bad, huh? Well, I’ll fuck you, I guess. Or maybe you want to fuck me?” He feigns contemplation, as if he’s actually considering it, and then feels for Souji’s cock. “It seems pretty big, so it might be nice.”

Something in him, or his cock inside something, whichever, they both sound amazing. In response, Souji lifts his hips. He doesn’t need to say much since Adachi can see right through him. Maybe it’s their shared power, or maybe it’s because they’re both so hungry for this, but he doesn’t care what happens to him as long as he gets to come. His eyes dart around Adachi’s back into the living room for a flat surface. The couch would work, but the kitchen counter is closer.

“I haven’t been on the receiving end in a while, but honestly, I think it would be shame to not fuck you,” Adachi says. He gives Souji’s body a quick once over. “I mean, look at you. Made for taking my cock—”

They kiss for the first time. Ironic, since they’ve been rubbing against each other for the last ten minutes. Souji moves first, leaning forward and biting at Adachi’s lips before pushing his tongue inside. It’s not a great kiss. Neither of them can get into the right rhythm, but it makes Souji feel disoriented and dumb anyway, sick with lust. When he reaches down to loosen Adachi’s belt, he’s shaky and clumsy for someone supposedly so good with his hands, but at least the zipper gives him no trouble. Within seconds, he’s pulling out Adachi’s cock, amazed that he’s actually touching it, bare and pulsing hot in his hands. He runs his fingers up and down its length, getting a feel for it, memorizing its weight in his hand for fear of forgetting. 

“You like it?” Adachi asks, smirking. It must show on Souji’s face because he really does. “I bet you’ve been thinking about my cock every day since you left Inaba. Well, here it is, the real thing.” He grabs it himself, fingers over Souji’s, and shows him how he likes to be jerked. It’s slow at first, focusing on the head, and then faster, moving in a way that encompasses the entire shaft until a bit of precome drips from the tip. Souji swipes it with his thumb and rubs.

He’s pushed away, though, suddenly maneuvered forward and then backwards. The kitchen counter is cold on his face as he’s shoved onto it, and his pants are pulled down and shirt pulled up, half nude, exposed. He can already feel Adachi behind him, rubbing his wet cock against his hole.

“Tell me you want it,” Adachi says. 

“I want it,” he gasps.

“Nope, wrong.”

He’s snatched by the neck, pulled up so his back is flush against Adachi’s chest, and his equilibrium shifts dangerously as he scrambles for purchase on the edge of the countertop. In the background, distant and fuzzy despite the physical proximity, he can hear Adachi laughing.

“Tell me _what_ it is you want,” Adachi says, “you stupid fucking piece of meat.”

The dirtiness of the situation sends a shiver through Souji’s body and makes him harder. Although he knows it’s not for his own benefit—Adachi is clearly getting off on pushing him around, calling him names—it’s what Souji wants anyway. He’s tired of being called perfect, being the dependable one, the leader, always in charge, _you go there, no, today we’re going into the TV_. Though he’s not in Inaba anymore, he can feel the heaviness of his decisions weighing him down. Isn’t it easier this way?

Adachi’s hands around his neck squeeze harder, and his hips make shallow thrusts against Souji’s ass. He clicks his tongue in disappointment. “Hm, I guess you don’t want it? Ah, well, I’ll just dry hump you, I guess, or maybe jerk off and paint your ass with my come.” His thrusts quicken, impatient, despite knowing full well Souji can’t answer him. “What a shame.”

Souji whines. He can barely breathe, much less talk, the grip on his neck is too tight, and all that comes out is a gasp instead of what he really wants to say. He tries to fuck back, grinding up and down on Adachi as he slides alongside his crack, but it’s useless, how is he supposed to put it in? 

When Adachi releases him and holds his hips instead, Souji’s face falls down hard onto the counter. He gasps and takes a deep breath.

“ _You_ , I want you,” Souji starts to babble, not thinking, just spewing out words. He’s thankful his face is hidden. “Inside me, your cock, _you_ , please, whatever you want, just fuck me. I can’t take it anymore.”

“You’re so fucking nasty.”

When Adachi pushes inside, he groans. The way he fucks is sloppy and without much rhythm, already the pace of someone needy for release, and he ignores Souji’s cock completely. It doesn’t matter, though, because the hastiness of it, the vulgar sounds of Adachi’s hips and balls slapping against his ass, makes Souji feel like he’s also on the brink of orgasm. He doesn’t even want to touch his own cock for fear of it ending too early. He wonders, briefly and a bit worriedly, how he’ll feel when he comes and this is all over, if he’ll regret it or want it even more; or, when Adachi returns to Inaba, when he inevitably calls to remind him of what he’s done, if he’ll feel even more or less guilty, stupid and used. His hole tightens when Adachi pulls out and pushes back in, brushing against his prostate.

“I felt that,” Adachi manages to say. His voice is strained, like he’s holding himself back, and he bites at Souji’s ear and hits that same spot. “Your sloppy cunt… is twitching around me. You gonna come from just your ass?”

Yeah, he is, if he keeps at it. It’s unbearable, the buildup of sensation in his balls that spreads out all over his body, and it makes him writhe beneath Adachi. He desperately wants something else, something more, to be held or be held down, and he reaches out behind him and turns his head. Awkwardly, his lips land first on Adachi’s cheek and then further, finally on his mouth, and he licks his way inside. This kiss is better, though it might actually not be, it’s not like he can tell. It’s certainly more frantic, helpless with an agitated, almost angry energy. It eggs Adachi on, and he pulls out and flips Souji around to face him. 

This position feels more vulnerable. Looking at Adachi like this feels wrong now, like he’s staring his problems right in the face. He shuts his eyes out of embarrassment but pulls himself up onto the kitchen counter anyway. Slower this time, he lets himself be kissed, and when Adachi pulls away to reinsert his cock, Souji knows he’s being looked at.

“Watch. Look,” Adachi tells him. He grabs Souji’s head and forces it down. “Watch me fuck you.”

Souji opens his eyes. It’s sliding in and out, and it’s slippery and hot, and it’s making his insides feel like they’re on fire. The visual—the absolute blatant obscenity of Adachi’s cock moving inside him with such ease, a perfect fit, like he really was made for it—sends him over the edge. He made the right decision, _right_ , he _did_ , he tells himself as he comes, legs trembling violently as they wrap around Adachi’s waist. It’s possible, he thinks, that he’s obsessed, that he’s starting to fall in love, but that doesn’t make any sense because this isn’t real. It's bribery, blackmail, and in his post-orgasm daze, Souji feels disgusted.

He’s lucky that it doesn’t take long for Adachi to follow, a few shallow thrusts and he’s leaning onto his shoulder, spilling inside. When he pulls out, he’s quick to stuff himself back into his pants and zip up, and Souji watches him straighten out his clothes and toe on his shoes, silent and expressionless. 

And when Adachi leaves without saying a word, Souji is relieved. He slumps down against the front door and listens to the soft pitter-patter of footsteps grow further away, distant behind him.


End file.
